Opposite of Ordinary: A Reverse Harem Series (The Fareland Society Book 1)

by Jessica Sorensen

  “That’s not really how the story goes.”

  “Isn’t it?” With a sparkle in her eyes, she steps outside where the sky is grey.

  Feeling as lost as ever, I follow after her, wondering if maybe she’s right.

  19

  Two hours later, I’m standing in front of a small farmhouse, wearing a short, poofy blue dress with checkered trimming, black and white striped knee-high socks, red platform shoes, black lace-up gloves, and a matching choker. My hair is curled and decorated with a bow, my makeup is minimal, and my insides are a hot mess.

  “Has the party started already?” I ask as Gabby bangs on the door.

  “We’re a little bit late!” she says loudly over the music vibrating through the concrete steps below me and the chatter flowing from the backyard. “Thanks to Mr. White Rabbit over here.”

  I take in my brother’s outfit for the twentieth time since he walked out of his room.

  “Don’t you dare laugh.” He fiddles with one of the white rabbit ears on top of his head. “Gabby, please don’t make me wear this all night.”

  “Breaking Bad,” is all she says as she knocks on the door again.

  Lucky’s mouth turns into a full-on pout. “Fine. I’ll wear it all night.” Then he sticks his hand into the pocket of his vest, retrieves a flask, and takes a long swig. “There. I’m feeling a little bit better.”

  “Lucky you.” I lean against the railing behind me. “No pun intended.”

  “I don’t know why you’re being sulky.” He screws the lid back on the flask. “You look decent. Nowhere near as ridiculous as me.”

  “I’m just nervous,” I admit. “There’s probably a lot of people here who don’t like me very much. And I’m sober.”

  “Here.” He shoves the flask at me. “Take only a sip.”

  Twisting the cap off, I take a swig and nearly gag from the burn. Coughing, I return the flask to him.

  “Thanks, I guess.”

  Gabby shoots him a harsh look as she raps on the door again. “Did you seriously just give your sister alcohol?”

  He tucks the flask into his pocket. “She’s nervous. Besides, it’s not like she won’t drink while we’re here.”

  “I don’t think it’s that kind of party,” she tells him, hammering her fist against the door. “Clarissa’s never been much of a drinker.”

  Lucky pulls a face that looks ridiculous with whiskers surrounding his nose. “Talk about a buzzkill …” His words fade as the door swings open.

  Clarissa stands in the doorway wearing a short black dress with a long, black, high collar, and red hearts up the front. The look is topped off with black boots and a golden crown.

  “Hello, everyone,” she greets us with a smile. But the warmness goes good-bye, see ya later when her eyes find me. “Alice,” she says with a curt nod.

  Unsure if she’s in character or not, I force a smile. “Queen of Hearts, it’s so nice of you to invite me to your party, though I know you want to cut off my head.”

  A deliberate smile curls her lips. “I think I’ll go easy on threats of decapitation for tonight. But all bets are off tomorrow.”

  For some weird reason, I think of the card I found. Maybe tonight I can somehow work it into a conversation.

  “Thank you,” I reply with gratitude. “I appreciate your undeserved kindness.”

  Silence momentarily stretches between the four of us, and then we all start laughing.

  “Come on; get your butts in here.” Clarissa steps back and lets us walk through the doorway. “We were just about to serve shots.”

  “Shots?” Lucky perks up.

  “Candy shots,” Clarissa clarifies, stepping inside. “I think there’s some beer in the fridge if you want a real drink.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good.” Lucky clutches his front pocket for dear life as he steps over the threshold. I follow them, my jaw nearly punching the floor.

  Tons of glowing mushrooms, colorful flowers, and tree branches are hanging from the ceiling, a checkered rug is rolled across the carpet, and the doorway in front of me is framed with iron poles that resemble a gothic entrance gate.

  “Holy crap. Clarissa, this is amazing,” Gabby states, turning in a circle, her gaze skimming the walls, ceiling, and floor.

  “Just wait until you see what I did to the shop.” Clarissa motions for us to follow as she whisks through the doorway.

  Gabby trails after her, awestruck by the decoration. “So cool.”

  Lucky takes a drink before he hurries after her, while I move much slower, taking in the scene, terrified what might be waiting for me through that doorway. After minutes of staring at mushrooms and flowers, I run out of excuses to procrastinate and finally enter.

  My heart instantly sprints. It’s worse than I thought. Not only are Kinslee, Huntley, Maxon, and Clarissa hanging out in the decorated living room, but so are a handful of other people I go to school with, people who aren’t fans of Queen Bitchton’s sidekick, ex or not.

  That’s not even the real kicker.

  No, what nearly makes me turn around and run away from Wonderland forever is the sight of Maxon sitting on the sofa with a very pretty girl who looks vaguely familiar. They’re both dressed up as the Mad Hatter, although Maxon looks way better in my opinion, rocking pinstriped pants, suspenders, a black T-shirt, and a top hat.

  He’s talking animatedly, his eyes lit up, moving his hands in front of him—the opposite of how he looked the last time I saw him, when I kissed him and he looked at me like the villain of a horror movie.

  I slowly start to back away when Huntley spots me. He’s wearing a Mad Hatter outfit as well, only his looks a bit more Goth, all blacks and silvers and chains, which I find a bit strange. He always seemed more like the nerdy/preppy type, but I guess a lot of people could say that about me right now. Well, minus the nerdy part.

  He gives me a cold look as I inch out of the room, and I decide right then and there that Huntley doesn’t just not like me; he despises me. But I guess he has every right to.

  Swallowing hard, I whirl around and bolt toward the entryway. I consider going to the car, but when I reach the front door, the doorbell rings. Abandoning that plan, I make a beeline through the doorway to my right and stumble into a kitchen decorated with platters of colorful cupcakes and cookies, and shot glasses filled with a variety of candies. And in the center of it all is Clove, eating frosting straight out of the container with a spoon.

  Crap! There’s no escape anywhere!

  He hasn’t looked up yet, so I start to inch back out slowly.

  “Alice never ran from Wonderland,” he says, shoveling another spoonful of frosting into his mouth.

  I freeze in front of the doorway. “I’m not Alice.”

  He glances up at me, licking a drop of frosting from his lip. “You aren’t, huh?” His gaze skims up and down my body, and I detect the slights bit of approval in his eyes.

  I tug at the hem of my dress. “My brother’s girlfriend made me wear this.”

  “Seems pretty fitting.” He sets the frosting down and rounds the kitchen island toward me. “You look good, though. But you probably already know that.” He smiles, although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

  I wonder if he’s mad at me, too …

  I note the jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers he’s wearing and confusion weaves through me. “Who are you supposed to be?”

  He smiles broadly. “The narrator.”

  A giggle escapes my lips, and he grins proudly. I shake my head. Only Clove could get me to laugh at a moment like this.

  “Feeling a little better about being here now?” he asks, licking more frosting off his lip.

  I nod reluctantly. “Maybe just a little.”

  “Hmm … Only a little?” He reaches for a shot glass on the counter and presents it to me like an offering. “This should do the trick.”

  Giggling again, I take the plastic shot glass and down the mouthful of candy. “Mmm … Sugary deliciousness.”
/>   With a small smile, he takes the empty shot glass from my hand, discards it in the trash, then leans against the counter with his arms folded. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

  “With what?” I ask, truly dumbfounded until he gives me an unrelenting look. Then I swallow hard. “Maxon told you?”

  “Only after I bugged him for over an hour. He put up a good fight.”

  “How did you even know something happened?”

  “Well, I didn’t know exactly what happened. I could just tell something was bugging him the second he showed up this morning.” He snatches another candy shot from the counter and chugs it. “Honestly, I haven’t seen him that grumpy since his dad bailed on him.”

  I feel terrible. “I didn’t mean to make him angry. I just … I don’t know …” I fiddle with the lacey trim of my dress. “We were hanging out in his room, talking, and one thing led to another, and I”—I put my hands up to the side of me—“lost all grasp on reality and kissed him. I shouldn’t have done it, and now I wish I could take it back.”

  His brows gather as he chomps on the candy. “Why?”

  I gape at him. “Because I obviously pissed him off. And who can blame him? He decides to be nice to a girl who’s been nothing but mean to him, and then she decides to steal what I’m guessing is his first kiss from all that zero for zero talk yesterday.”

  “Technically, it wasn’t his first kiss. Some girl did smash her lips against his at a concert once. Then she laughed and ran off.”

  “Well, that’s just horrible.”

  He nods. “I think she was on something.”

  I sigh. “Still, that can’t be good for a guy’s confidence.”

  He extends his hand toward another candy shot. “Exactly. Which is why I think you might need to kiss him again.”

  Shaking my head, I grab a candy shot. “No way. I’m not doing that to him again.” I lift the brim of the plastic cup to my lips. “You should’ve seen his face when he pulled away. I felt like I had cooties.”

  He rolls his eyes, setting the empty shot glass down. “You know, for someone who’s experienced in the dating world, you’re kind of dense when it comes to inexperienced guys who just got kissed by someone they’ve had a crush on for seven years.”

  “Hey, I’m not that experienced,” I start to protest, but then get sidetracked. “Wait. Crush?”

  He nods, stepping toward me. “I know it’s not cool to out your best friend, but I’m going to do it right now, only because I know you like Maxon, too.” He places his hand on my lower back and directs me back toward the doorway. “Maxon panicked when you kissed him, not because he thinks you have cooties, but because he likes you.”

  I stumble in my heels as I step through the doorway. “That makes no sense at all.”

  “It makes complete sense. Imagine being in his shoes. You’ve been obsessed with the same girl for years, a girl who hasn’t given you the time of day and is probably one of the prettiest girls in school. And her last boyfriend was some popular douchebag, while you’re this little nobody who hangs out in teachers’ classrooms at lunchtime.”

  “Maxon isn’t a little nobody.” My tone comes out shockingly clipped as I stumble into the living room. I can feel everyone staring at me, but I’m too irritated with Clove to care. “And he’s way better than Knox.”

  Clove grins, but again, it doesn’t quite shine through his eyes like with his normal smiles. “And that right there is why I’m about to do this.”

  Confusion bounces in me like an out of control bouncy ball. “Do what?”

  He dazzles me with his pearly whites before shoving me forward with enough force that I trip in my heels and land straight on Maxon’s lap.

  Maxon grunts as my hip bumps into his stomach. “What the heck?”

  “S-sorry,” I sputter, moving to climb off his lap, but a palm is placed on my back, pushing me further into Maxon’s lap.

  I sit down with my legs hanging off the front of Maxon’s knees and twist around, glaring at Clove. “What’re you doing?”

  He ignores me. “Max, if you let her out of your lap, I’m going to take my air compressor away and refuse to talk to you until after the competition.” He flashes him a smug smile before turning around and strutting over to Clarissa and Kinslee.

  I look back at Maxon, absolutely mortified. “I’m so sorry. I have no idea why he did that. We were just talking in the kitchen, and then he suddenly pushed me in here and onto your lap.” I shift my weight back to climb off him, but he grabs my waist and secures me in place.

  “You heard what he said.” His gaze darts to Clove then back at me. “If I let you move, I won’t be able to enter the potato launcher competition.”

  Awesome. If things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, I’m now sitting on a guy’s lap against his will. A guy who doesn’t seem too thrilled about this, either, which makes me wonder how Clove came up with his theory that Maxon has a crush on me.

  Awkward silence fills the air, except for the music playing in the background and the chatter of conversations.

  “Max, aren’t we going out to the shop?” the girl sitting beside him asks, scooting closer.

  She may be hitting on Maxon, but I could hug her right now for breaking the maddening silence.

  “Sorry, but I can’t right now,” he tells her apologetically. “Not until Clove gives me the go-ahead.”

  I feel so stupid. For kissing him. For sitting on his lap. For spying on him. For coming to this party. I should’ve stayed home, waited until tomorrow, apologized for kissing him, gave him the letter, and begged him to be my friend.

  “You know what? I think I’m going to leave.” I scoot forward. “Tell Clove I bailed out. I’m sure he’ll let you off the hook.”

  “No, don’t go,” he sputters out, drawing me back to his chest. Then he takes an unsteady breath. “I mean, I doubt Clove will let me off the hook if you leave.”

  I rotate sideways to look him directly in the eye for the first time since I kissed him. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

  He holds my gaze, except for a few times when his eyes stray to my lips. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, testing him, and he more than passes, becoming entirely enthralled with my mouth.

  Huh. Could Clove be right? Does Maxon like me, but is just afraid?

  There might be one way to find out.

  My heart nervously pitter-patters in my chest. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” My eyes fleetingly glide to the girl sitting beside us. She looks like she’s about to off my head. “Somewhere private, maybe.”

  “Sure.” He carefully moves me to the cushion beside him then stands up. “Just let me tell Clove I’m not running away, okay?”

  I nod then watch him walk through the crowd and over to Clove. When he leans in and says something to him, Clove nods and winks at me with an overly cheerful smile. I smile back but start to squirm as Kinslee targets a scowl at me.

  “He won’t fall for your evil tricks,” the girl beside me says abruptly.

  I give her a puzzled glance. “What evil tricks?”

  She flips her dark brown hair off her shoulder. “I know who you are, Ashlynn Wynterland, and I know what you did. And I’m not going to let you get away with it.” She pushes to her feet and stalks toward the kitchen.

  Worry stirs inside of me as I try to piece together why she seems familiar, but then Maxon appears in front of me and offers me his hand. All my worries soar off to reality as I let him lift me to my feet and guide me further into Wonderland.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as he leads me out the back door and across the acre of land behind the house.

  He glances over his shoulder, the orange glow of the sunlight reflecting in his cloudy eyes. “To Wonderland.”

  “But I thought we were already there.”

  “Not quite.” He picks up the pace, striding toward a large metal shop. When he reaches the front, he grabs the handle, draws open t
he crooked door, and pulls me inside.

  Lofty, neon mushrooms cover the spacious area, black lighting cascades from the glittering ceiling beams, and “Midnight” by Coldplay drifts through the magically kissed air.

  I blink. Then I blink again, thinking I accidentally ate a magic mushroom or something. But what’s before me remains.

  Letting go of his hand, I spin around in a circle with my hands out to my sides. “I feel like I’ve left reality and flown off to Wonderland.”

  “I told you I could make that happen for you.” Maxon leans against the trunk of a mushroom, watching me spin in circles, the white on his costume shining through the darkness. “I’m just sorry I didn’t get the courage to invite you myself. I wish I would’ve … You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks.” I stop spinning, my cheeks fiery warm from his compliment. “Maxon, I’m sorry I tried to force myself on you.”

  He blinks in shock then steps toward me. “You didn’t force yourself on me.”

  “But I kissed you without permission, and then you were upset.”

  “That’s not what upset me.”

  I reduce the space between us. “Then, what did?”

  He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before reopening them. “I was upset with myself for messing up the kiss and some other stuff …”

  I trace the glowing white line trimming his suspenders and secretly grin when he shivers. I’ve never made a guy this nervous before, and I’m enthralled by it.

  “You didn’t mess up the kiss. And what other stuff …?”

  “Nothing. It’s probably just in my head,” he mutters then sighs. “But I did mess up the kiss. By panicking.” He stares down at my fingers moving up and down his suspenders, mesmerized. “And by not knowing what I was doing.”

  “Does anyone really know what they’re doing?”

  “I really don’t know what I’m doing.” His chest heaves as he releases a faltering breath. “Remember? Zero for zero.”

  “I don’t really know what I’m doing, either. Have I kissed a few guys? Yeah. But that’s it. And I’ve never actually made the first move until I kissed you, so that was my one for one.” Summoning a breath of courage, I loop my arms around him. “And you’re not zero for zero anymore. Not since yesterday. I just hope I didn’t steal the number away from you by kissing you when you didn’t want to be kissed.”